


Black-Tie event

by Want_to_read234



Series: My First Whumptober (2020) [19]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Spiked drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27151630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Want_to_read234/pseuds/Want_to_read234
Summary: Peter is excited to be going to his very first Avengers fundraising gala. He even gets to go with Mr Stark. When his spidey sense starts warning him something is wrong when his mentor leaves to dance, what could the danger be?Day 22: Drugged
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: My First Whumptober (2020) [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948717
Comments: 6
Kudos: 134
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Black-Tie event

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,
> 
> Honestly can't believe I've been keeping these up to date so far. I've been relatively good at having them written in advance and just doing the proof reading on the day, but I'm getting a bit panicky that I haven't started day 29 yet... I tend to get each one written in an evening sitting down after work but I've been putting it off for a couple of days now... Hoping I might be able to fire through the remaining days drafts during the weekend!
> 
> Anyway, Hope you enjoy this one!

Peter stood staring at his reflection in the mirror. He tugged at his tie for the tenth time in as many minutes. He had found the same video that May had used for his failed attempt at homecoming the previous year, but he just couldn’t get the tie to sit right.

Checking the time on his phone from where it was propped up on the counter, he sighed. It would just have to do. He was already running 5 minutes late, and Mr Stark would send the others after him if he didn’t move out to the common room soon.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he gave his hair one more pat down before heading to join the others.

The common room was filled with restless energy when he entered. Clint was laying across the sofa, tapping his legs against the arm rest, with his tie hanging loose around his shoulders. Natasha and Pepper were leaning against the kitchen counter talking quietly, although Pepper kept stealing glances at her watch and glaring at the corridor that led to her and Mr Starks private quarters. Steve was standing with his arms folded towards the elevator, shuffling back and forth between his feet. Everyone was dressed to the nines.

Tonight was the annual Avengers fundraising gala. Peter had been ecstatic when Mr Stark had invited him along. All Stark Industry employees had been given an invite, and his mentor had pointed out that it would look odd given his cover as an intern if he didn’t show up. The invite had been extended to his aunt, but she couldn’t get the night off work. Hence why he was at the tower getting ready to go with his mentor.

It was a black-tie event, and Mr Stark had bought him a brand-new suit for it. It probably cost more than his and Mays apartment. That was a fact that Peter was trying to ignore. When he thought about it for too long then he was too scared to move in it.

The event was being held in the Tower on one of the lower entertainment levels, so they wouldn’t have to travel far.

“What are you all just standing around for?” his mentor questioned as he strode into the room, doing up with cufflinks. “The gala started what,” glancing at his watch, “half an hour ago? I thought you would have been down by now.”

The look that Pepper sent Mr Stark was one of pure frustration. “Well, we would have done but remember yesterday when we all agreed to go down together? Remember that?”

“Oh, was that about tonight?” his mentor called over his shoulder, as he stopped in front of Peter. He watched his rapt attention as Mr Starks fingers worked to expertly fix his tie, straightening his collar once he was done. “There we go, you ready for tonight Pete?”

“Y-yeah Mr Stark,” he nodded. “It’s going to be amazing.”

His mentors hand rested on his shoulder as he guided him to the elevator, “Are you all coming or not?”

Peter choked on a laugh when he heard Pepper cursing out Mr Stark under her breath. With similar grumbles throughout the room, the elevator filled quickly, and they were on their way down for the gala.

Peter could hear the music and voices coming from the hall before the elevator even came to a stop. He hadn’t thought about how the gala might end up assaulting his senses. He probably should have thought it probable, given he can’t stand house parties anymore. But he figured a black-tie event would just have some quiet classical music in the background or something. The music itself wasn’t too loud, but there were hundreds of voices beyond the metal doors.

As soon as the doors slid open, Peter felt his shoulders tense as a wall of voices hit him. The others didn’t seem to notice as Clint stepped out first, “I’m going to the bar, Nat you coming?”

The two spies quickly disappeared amongst the bodies, as Steve and Pepper walked out looking around at the guests. Pepper was quickly called away by some SI employees, whereas Steve was being dragged to the dancefloor by what looked like a SHIELD agent, if the hidden weapon were anything to go by.

Mr Stark had stepped out of the elevator but was watching Peter warily where he was still standing. Shaking himself out of it, he stepped out the confined space, his eyes darting around the room.

“If it gets too much kid, just let me know. We can call it a night whenever you’re ready,” shooting Peter a smile, Mr Stark eyed him once more before turning to take in the room at large.

Peter nodded at his mentor as he took everything in.

As he let his senses adjust to the sounds around him, he felt himself calming slightly. The room was beautiful. When he had overheard Pepper talking the day before about the decorating team hanging streamers and balloons, he had expected it to look like a high school prom, but this was done perfectly. It was elegant and tasteful. In all silver and blue tones. He guessed that was Peppers doing. Mr Stark would have chosen red and gold.

Tables had been set up round the outside of the room, giving space for a large dance floor in the centre. There were waiters wandering around with trays of drinks and finger nibbles as well as the bar set up against the back wall.

“Wow, it looks amazing in here Mr Stark.”

Smirking his mentor hummed in agreement, “Pepper always outdoes herself. She certainly knows how to throw a party.”

Leading his way through the crowds of people, the older man stopped by an empty table near a window. Pulling out a chair he sat down, indicating for Peter to do the same. “So what do you wanna do first Pete? Shall we go networking or do you fancy dancing? I was told that some of the guys from R&D were going to be bringing their teenage daughters with them, so we could go over and introduce you?”

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Peter shook his head. “I don’t want to dance Mr Stark… I think I’ll just sit for a bit, get my senses used to the room first, you know?”

“Sure,” Mr Stark nodded. “so you want to practice some pick-up lines first then?”

Spluttering in response, Peter was taken by surprise when Clint and Natasha returned to join them at the table placing a glass of what smelt like cranberry juice in front of him, he offered a smile in thanks.

“Oooh, you looking to learn some pick-up lines? It’s a good thing I’m here then, I am an expert!” Clint goaded.

Natasha chuckled, “Oh please, the only reason Laura stayed to talk to you past the first sentence was because you were both trapped in an elevator.”

A look of mock betrayal crossed Clints face, as he raised a hand to his chest, “You wound me Nat, you really do.”

“Well, it’s about time someone told you the truth before you go passing on your awful advice,” she patted his hand in fake sympathy.

Pulling her hand away, Natasha fixed Peter with a questioning stare, “So why are you wanting to learn pick-up lines?”

“I’m not!” Peter was quick to respond, “Mr Stark was just trying to be funny.” He shot his mentor a glare but going from the smile pulling at the mans lips it hadn’t worked.

“I was trying to help,” his mentor defended, “there are a number of staff here tonight with their teenage daughters, I thought Pete could go dancing with some.”

“Aww, they grow up so fast,” Clint pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, as Peter gave him a light shove to the shoulder.

Mr Stark patted his shoulder as he stood, watching Pepper from across the room. “You guys stay out of trouble for a bit, yeah? I’m going to go dance with my fiancé. Save her from the work hyenas.”

Peter reached out to run his fingers through the condensation on the side of his glass, as he watched his mentor lead Pepper out onto the dancefloor. He felt a dull throb of his spidey sense as the couple began to dance, but he figured it was just separation anxiety since it was the first time all night his mentor hadn’t been by his side.

Gripping the glass tighter between his hands, he raised it to take a sip. He grimaced as the taste hit his tongue. He had always liked the sweetness of cranberry juice followed by the bitter aftertaste, but this juice was extremely bitter. He felt himself gagging as he swallowed his mouthful, dropping the glass back to the table.

His spidey sense suddenly screamed at him causing him to jerk back from the table. Natasha and Clint both stopped their conversation to watch him. His eyes were surveying the room for any danger, quickly checking the window behind him, before returning his attention to the dancefloor.

“Peter?” Natasha asked warily.

“Somethings wrong, but I don’t know what…” he said hesitantly.

Clint had moved to stand behind him, eyes scanning the guests for any signs of danger. “When did it start? It’s your sixth sense thing, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “em, it was when Mr Stark went up to dance I noticed it…” he swallowed against his dry throat.

Natasha stood gracefully and rested her hand on his shoulder before directing her attention at the dancefloor. “I’ll go and get Tony. Make sure he’s on alert. I won’t let anyone get to him Pete.” With a quick squeeze to his shoulder she strode off through the crowd.

Clint was still standing vigil behind him. Peter suddenly became aware of just how parched his mouth had become. Reaching for his glass in the hope his juice would help, his spidey sense screamed the minute his hand touched the cool glass. The shock of the sudden danger warning had him knocking it over, sending juice across the table.

He jerked to his feet on shaky legs, bouncing directly into Clint with an ‘oof’, the man grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“It’s the juice,” he whispered, turning to face Clint.

Watching the archers face, he knew the exact moment he realised what that meant. “Did you drink much of it? We should probably get you down to medbay to check it out. I can get Natasha to find out what happened.”

Once Peter had identified what his senses had been warning him about, he became more aware of the effect the drug was having on his system. His hands and legs were shaking slightly, and he could feel nausea rolling in his stomach. The dryness in his mouth had only started after he had had a drink and he had a headache forming behind his eyes.

He nodded along with Clint as he decided on the next steps. Turning to head back out to the elevator, Peters vision swam as the floor came up to reach him. As he braced for the impact of falling face first onto the marble flooring, a pair of strong arms caught him inches from the floor. Helping ease him back to a comfortable lying position.

The voices in the room were getting louder in his ears, causing him to wince. Raising his hands to cover his ears he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut to block out as much input as possible. Clints gentle hands were brushing over him, probably trying to work out the best way to get him out of here soon.

A pair of glasses slid over his face, allowing him to squint up at the face of his mentor. 

“Mis’ser S’ark?” he gasped. Breathing was taking more effort than usual, leaving his chest feeling tight and heavy. His eyes bore into those of his mentors through the darkened lenses.

Mr Starks hands moved to rest on his chest, providing a warming presence to ground him.

“Yeah kid, I’m right here. Just keep breathing Cho is on her way up,” he sent Peter a shaky smile.

Peter didn’t have the energy required to nod back, so he just lay watching his mentor, hoping the man could read the understanding in his eyes.

Mr Starks eyes softened as he gazed at him, “You’re going to be ok,” he spoke softly.

Shifting his gaze to the side, he saw Clint still sitting by his side opposite Mr Stark. The archer was speaking in harsh whispers into a phone. Peters brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to work out who Clint would be talking to, the archer caught his unasked question and silently mouthed ‘Nat’ gesturing to the phone. That made sense.

His gaze slowly slid back round to face Mr Stark. His mentor looked worried; his eyes wide as he worried his bottom lip. Pepper was standing behind the man rubbing his shoulders. She smiled at Peter when she caught him watching her. He felt a smile twitch at his lips in return before it fell away as he gasped for breath.

His hands fell from his ears to grip his throat. It felt like someone was squeezing his throat, blocking his airways. He couldn’t get air past his lips. Opening his mouth to gasp, he felt himself run cold with fear at the realisation that nothing was making it to his lungs. His wide eyes searched for his mentor looking for help.

Mr Stark looked on helplessly as he yelled for Cho to hurry up. Peter felt his mentors hands in his hair, stroking reassuringly, but he could read the fear in the mans eyes. He couldn’t tell if he had been gasping for seconds or for minutes before spots started to appear in his vision.

He blindly reached out one of his hands to grip tightly onto his mentors. He was so scared, could feel his heart hammering in his chest as his lungs failed to expand. Was this how he was going to die? Not anything heroic. Not out saving anyone as Spider-Man. Not even in old age. But choking in the middle of a gala, after drinking some spiked cranberry juice?

Steve and Natasha appeared behind Clint, pushing people out of the way to get close.

“We got it,” he heard Natasha as speak as they approached, “Steve’s got it here.”

Steve was holding something and was watching anxiously somewhere behind Peter, in the direction of the elevator.

He distantly heard voices yelling for people to get out the way as his vision finally faded to black and slipped out of consciousness.

His mentor yelling at him to stay awake.

xXxXxXx

When Peter woke up, the tell-tale smells of the medbay were the first thing that he noted. The next was that everything hurt. His head was thumping, and his body felt like he’d went 12 rounds with Steve and lost every single one.

Squinting his eyes open, he was thankful to find the lights off. There was some soft light coming in from the moon outside the window. Relaxing slightly, he glanced around and was pleasantly surprised to see the team sleeping in various positions around the room. Mr Stark and Pepper where slumped against each other on the small couch against the wall, with Steve resting in an armchair along the next wall. Over on the ground by the window, Clint was leaning with his back against the window, which did not look good for his neck. Natasha was laying stretched out on the ground next to Clint with her head in his lap.

He smiled watching his team look so relaxed, as he shifted to get more comfortable. The movement was enough to rouse his mentor, whose gaze fell directly onto him. Freezing in his movements, Peter offered the man a smile.

“Hey Mr Stark,” he whispered, careful not to wake the others.

“Hey kid, you gave us quite the scare back there.”

“Sorry-“

“No need to apologise, not your fault,” his mentor waved away his apology. “How you feeling? Cho said you would likely have some form of hangover while the drugs leave your system.”

Shifting under his mentors analysing gaze, he gave a slight nod, “That makes sense. My heads sore and everything feels achy. What happened?”

Mr Starks eyes darkened, as he glanced out the window. “Some old intern with a vendetta against me. Apparently he had applied to be my personal intern and was obviously declined, since I don’t take them. But then he heard about you, and figured if you were out of the way that he could be in with a chance…” sighing his mentor turned to meet his eyes again, “I’m sorry kid, it’s all my fault.”

“Nuh-uh. If I don’t get to say sorry for drinking a spiked drink then you don’t get to apologise for someone else’s stupid actions.”

The two of them were locked in a staring match, until Mr Stark finally looked away. Peter couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on his face at his victory.

“When did you get so stubborn kid?” he spoke, shaking his head.

“I don’t know, I’d say I get it from my aunt but she said I’ve got worse since I started my _internship_ ,” he smirked at his mentor, “So I think its from you _sir._ ”

Breathing a laugh, his mentor rubbed a hand across his face. “Sounds about right, just don’t go picking up _all_ my bad habits.”

Shooting his mentor a cheeky grin, he quipped, “Well if this is what a hangover feels like then you can trust I won’t be following in your MIT party days footsteps if that helps?” The minute it had left his mouth, he worried he at went too far. Holding his breath till he saw a smirk tug at the mans mouth.

“God, I’d hope not Pete!” his mentors gaze turned soft as Peter rubbed his hand along his temple, trying to alleviate some of the pain, “You’re going to be better than all of us one day. But right now, you should try and get some more sleep. It will help you feel better, and when you wake up you should be able to get some more pain meds. Cho doesn’t want to give you too much just now since the other drug is still in your system.”

Nodding his head slightly, Peter shifted once again in the bed to get more comfortable. Turning his pillows to get some cold material against his aching forehead, he sighed when the coolness dulled some of the pain.

As he closed his eyes, he heard his mentor whisper “Sweet dreams Spider-baby,” before sleep took over him. 


End file.
